She knows that he wouldn't want someone else to die for him, but that hadn't been what she meant, and there's an appreciation for the way he attempts to answer such a delicate query. It isn't a simple one, and it will always be sad for someone with an understanding of the fragility of life. The woman who died for him is worth remembering.
Strange for him to relate any goodness to an exchange that's been mired in talk of loneliness and fear, but stranger still for her to take any concern with him rating it as anything less than perfect. Offense isn't taken, of course not; here she is asking him to dredge up his worst memories, so it shouldn't be a moment with rosy hue. It's a reminder that she is made for poor conversation, for poor company, and again it makes her wonder what he gains from staying near her.
No doubt the moment would also be improved if she did not look so disheveled, and there's a slight twitch as if she might try to pull her hand out from underneath his, to tuck and hide it back into her sleeves with her other hand, but she pauses and her shoulders decompress again. Selfishly, she stays still.
"I am glad for your being here."
Alive. Here.
"Despite my lamentable disposition of late. I wish that I did not..." She strains to find the words without losing the reins on her spiraling anxiety. Perhaps it's the most she can do to apologize for the moment being less than. She suspects they always will be with her. "I wish that I could ever peer out from beneath the shroud that hangs 'round me, yet all I seem to manage is to draw you back beneath it."
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Strange for him to relate any goodness to an exchange that's been mired in talk of loneliness and fear, but stranger still for her to take any concern with him rating it as anything less than perfect. Offense isn't taken, of course not; here she is asking him to dredge up his worst memories, so it shouldn't be a moment with rosy hue. It's a reminder that she is made for poor conversation, for poor company, and again it makes her wonder what he gains from staying near her.
No doubt the moment would also be improved if she did not look so disheveled, and there's a slight twitch as if she might try to pull her hand out from underneath his, to tuck and hide it back into her sleeves with her other hand, but she pauses and her shoulders decompress again. Selfishly, she stays still.
"I am glad for your being here."
Alive. Here.
"Despite my lamentable disposition of late. I wish that I did not..." She strains to find the words without losing the reins on her spiraling anxiety. Perhaps it's the most she can do to apologize for the moment being less than. She suspects they always will be with her. "I wish that I could ever peer out from beneath the shroud that hangs 'round me, yet all I seem to manage is to draw you back beneath it."